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Now reading: Chapter 85: Alphas At The Table from Defy The Alpha(s), a Fantasy novel by Glimmy.

"What were you doing in the bathroom all this while? I almost thought you were not going to co out and we’d miss breakfast." Lila asked the question that had been on her mind as they walked in the direction of the breakfast hall.

Of course, leave it to Lila to want to know everything.

"I simply took my ti." Violet answered curtly, her cheeks turning red a bit.

No way in hell was she telling Lila she had a strange vision, if it could even be called that, or was it a daydream? The point is the last ti Lila figured out her secret, it hadn’t ended well. Despite Lila’s promise to remain silent this ti, Violet wasn’t about to take any chances. Yep, not happening.

"Oh, is that so?" Lila seed skeptical but thankfully didn’t push further.

Good. It seed she was finally learning when to back off.

As they approached the breakfast hall, Violet noticed several cars parked outside, but one in particular—a sleek, red sports car—caught her eye. It felt like she had seen it before.

"Who owns that car?"

"Which one?" Lila followed her gaze. "Oh, that’s Griffin Hale’s car."

That explained the familiarity. Violet rembered seeing a smaller model of it in his room.

Lila went on to say, "From what I heard, they say Griffin loves his car above any other thing. He even calls them his baby. One ti while he was still together with Amanda Raynes, they had a fight and she kicked his car. It was safe to say she nearly lost her head that day."

"Is that so?" A mischievous idea began to form in Violet’s mind.

Oblivious to the thoughts stirring in her friend, Lila asked, "Why do you ask?"

"Nothing," Violet responded with a nonchalant smile, looping her arm through Lila’s. "Let’s head in, shall we?"

Together, they stepped into the Silvered Hall, leaving the talks of Griffin’s car behind them.

But the mont Violet and Lila entered, the room seed to freeze in ti. Conversations stopped mid-sentence, the clattering of trays and dishes ceased, and a silence as heavy as a storm cloud descended upon the space.

Violet felt the weight of countless eyes on her, their scrutiny sharp and unrelenting. Lila, beside her, halted abruptly, her earlier confidence draining in an instant. She tugged at Violet’s sleeve, whispering nervously, "Maybe we should—"

"No," Violet said firmly, cutting her off. "We’re not turning back."

If they wanted to stare, she would give them a reason to. She refused to show weakness, not now, not after everything.

As they moved further into the hall, she could hear the whispers start up again, gentle at first, then growing louder, like a swarm of bees buzzing in the background. But Violet wasn’t fazed. She let her gaze sweep across the room, daring anyone to et her eyes. Most looked away, intimidated by her brazen defiance.

Then her attention shifted to the elite floor, and there she was, Elsie Lancaster.

The reigning queen of Lunaris Academy sat at her table, surrounded by her usual entourage of sycophants. Her expression was carefully neutral, but her eyes told a different story. They burned with an intensity that could only be described as hatred, a firestorm of anger and jealousy hidden beneath her icy facade.

Violet stopped for a fraction of a second, locking eyes with Elsie. The air between them seed to crackle with fire and brimstone , a war waging in their gazes.

Beside her, Lila tugged at her arm, whispering. "Violet, stop. Everyone’s watching."

"Let them watch," Violet replied coolly, dragging Lila along despite her protests. She kept her head high, her movents unbothered. They wanted to see if she would break, to see if the Oracle’s article had gotten to her. But Violet was determined to show them otherwise.

With unwavering confidence, Violet strode toward the food counter and she grabbed a tray, and served herself. Lila followed closely behind, her nervous glances darting around the room.

Unlike before, Violet didn’t turn toward the lower floor where the non-elite students gathered. Instead, she set her sights on the upper floor, the elite section. If they claid she was an elite, then perhaps it was ti to act like one. And if it happened to provoke Elsie Lancaster in the process, all the better.

Lila hesitated as they reached the stairs, glancing over her shoulder at the lower floor. "Maybe we should just sit downstairs today?" she suggested.

The tension in the hall was suffocating enough and Lila didn’t want to co anywhere close to an angry Elsie.

"No," Violet said sharply, her tone leaving no room for argunt.

Great. It was the war of the queens today.

Lila had no choice but to quickly keep up with Violet.

The mont Violet ascended the stairs, the conversations in the hall reached a crescendo. It was as though Violet had just crossed so forbidden boundary, and everyone was eager to see what would happen next.

And she didn’t disappoint.

She spotted an empty table near the center and headed toward it. Lila trailed behind her, looking more like a frightened rabbit than an elite. Not that she was one. Yet.

As they approached the table, Violet’s morale shattered instantly. Her steps faltered, and she nearly lost her footing. Her eyes widened as she realized why, because sitting a few tables away were the four cardinal alphas.

Alaric, Griffin, Roman, and of course, Asher.

They were all there, their imposing figures impossible to miss. Alaric was flipping through a book, his intelligent eyes glancing up briefly. Griffin leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his gaze curious. Roman wore his signature smirk, as if he knew a secret no one else did. And Asher... Asher was the worst of all. He sat with his usual calm arrogance, his eyes lazily following Violet’s movents.

For a mont, Violet froze. The boldness she had so carefully built seed to shake under their combined scrutiny. But she quickly steeled herself, straightening her posture and lifting her chin.

She pushed forward, and managed to reach the empty table and placed her tray down, ignoring the pounding of her heart. Lila as well followed, her movents stiff and awkward.

This was going to be an uncomfortable breakfast.

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